CHAPTER 1

KEITH:

    My daughter Sarah had not had an easy life. Twenty years ago, she got pregnant at the age of 13. To make matters worse, Brandon, the boy who had gotten Sarah pregnant, was only 10, which journalists speculated might make him the world's youngest dad. We became local celebrities overnight and none of us enjoyed it, especially not Sarah.

    After baby Ethan was born, he was raised by my wife and me as well as Brandon's parents. Nobody blamed Sarah and Brandon for not acting like parents – they were quite literally children themselves. Sarah still had all of high school to go through. Thankfully, I had just become principal of the school, so none of the other students dared to make fun of her too openly. 

    When looking at colleges, my daughter was only interested in going out of state. She ended up moving to Texas by herself a week after graduating high school. We didn't hear too much from her after that. I think she was very happy to finally be in a place where nobody knew of her past. She started going to church (we were never avid churchgoers) and she allowed us to continue to raise Ethan without her.

    Less than a year after moving, my daughter announced she was getting married to a guy a couple of years older than her, whom she'd met at church. We were happy for her but also shocked by the speediness of her decision. Things made more sense when we learned that Sarah was once again pregnant. This time around, she was a bit older, and her husband-to-be was determined to "do the right thing." He came from a good family, and they seemed pretty well off and willing to help.

    Sarah was wed before giving birth to her second son, Dennis. She managed to graduate college while taking care of him. Her husband made decent money and Sarah didn't even bother getting a full-time job. She worked here and there, but they mostly had traditional roles in their family, where her husband was the breadwinner and she took care of the home and continued having children every few years. 

    After getting knocked up at 13, this traditional life was probably just what my daughter wanted and needed. She hardly ever came to visit us in Pennsylvania, with the exception of a few months in 2011, when my wife got very ill. After her mother died, Sarah's visits grew even more infrequent.

    All these years as a widower, I lived on my own, save for the time my grandson Ethan would come stay with me. But Ethan was now grown as well; he was 20 years old and going to college in Philadelphia. He lived with his 30-year-old father Brandon and Brandon's boyfriend… who was my son Cory. (But that's a whole nother story.)

    Down in Texas, Sarah's family did their best to stay as straitlaced as possible. They went to church every Sunday and they hovered over their children as much as they could. However, in all of my experience as a high school principal, I knew that children who were raised by the strictest parents often grew to be the most rebellious. This turned out to be the case with my grandson Dennis. For every Bible verse he was forced to memorize, he decided to push in the opposite direction. I wasn't privy to all of his misdemeanors, but I knew there was a lot, including bullying of other students, drinking, as well as dealing and consuming drugs.

    Since she had such a strong support system in Texas, my daughter rarely confided in me. So one day, when she called me crying, I knew that she must really be at the end of her rope. Through tears, she let me know that Dennis had been expelled from school. All of her friends were suggesting sending him to a camp for troubled youth. She was worried that if he continued to live with them he would be a bad influence on his younger siblings. 

    "Listen, why don't you send him over to stay with me for a while?" I suggested. "The new semester is about to start. He can go to my school and I'll keep an eye out for him. If he continues to cause trouble, you can consider more drastic solutions."

    Little did I know… having Dennis living with me would lead to some pretty drastic action as well.

—

    I picked up my teenage nephew at the airport in Philadelphia a couple of days after Christmas. In the midst of the holiday season, everything was still brightly decorated and cheerful, in complete contrast to Dennis, who arrived all dressed in black and donning a cynical pout on his face.

    Rather than take the passenger seat, he preferred to sit in the back of my car, where he played video games on his console for an hour until we finally arrived at my house. Dennis looked around Stag Meadow Lane with a disgusted expression, as if it were a prison camp in the middle of Siberia.

    "Do you remember the last time you were here?" I asked him.

    "Of course I do. It was a few years ago. I wasn't a baby," he rolled his eyes as he walked past me. I had to laugh at how clichéd his emo act was. I worked with kids his age every day, so I was well used to this type of behavior. I decided to let my grandson act as moody as he wants without confronting him for now. After all, this was a new environment for him. I figured I'd give him a few days until the holidays were over, and then we'd see where we stand.

    Dennis immediately went to his bedroom and stood around tapping his foot impatiently, waiting for me to leave. After all of his luggage was in his room, I told Dennis he could relax for a few hours until dinnertime.

    "Thank you for your permission," he said sarcastically and shut the door in my face.

    As a bit of time went by, I began to wonder if this was the right approach to take with Dennis. Should I force him to come out and talk to me instead? After all, he got up to all sorts of trouble back in Texas. What was he doing up in that room? Was he even still here, or had he thought to sneak out through the window? I was getting a bit paranoid, and I was just about to go knock on his door when I got a different idea.

    A few months ago, there had been a break-in in the building where my son Cory lived. In order to feel safer, he and his boyfriend Brandon had put up cameras all over their apartment. When Cory came over, he couldn't stop bragging about how practical they were, and he offered to install them in my house as well. I'd agreed to it and a few days later there was a camera at my front and back door, as well as in several rooms inside the house… including my grandson's new bedroom.

    Since I never checked that cam, it had completely slipped my mind to tell Dennis that it was even there. Then again… maybe it would be a useful way of keeping an eye out for him if he wasn't aware of its existence. Sure, it was a violation of his privacy, but he would certainly not get any privacy in a disciplinary camp for troubled youth. In case Dennis continued to take drugs or do God-knows-what, it was probably better for me to be on the lookout.

    I sat down on the couch and opened the security cam app on my phone. I cycled past the exterior feeds that I normally checked and found the camera for the bedroom. The tiny wireless camera was positioned near the air vent high on the wall, so the majority of the room was in view. Dennis was lying on his bed, sitting up and facing the TV mounted on the far wall, across from where the camera was placed. I could immediately tell that porn was playing on the large flat screen. A moment later, I noticed that my grandson didn't have any pants on and was rapidly jerking off.

    A few different feelings swept through my brain at the same time. Relief, because Dennis wasn't getting into any trouble, he was just doing what every other teenage boy does with his free time. Puzzlement, at how he'd gotten this video to play on the TV, until I noticed he seemed to be controlling the playback with his phone. And I also felt both exhilaration and guilt about the fact I had caught my grandson in a very private moment.

    I was about to close the app and let Dennis go about his business… when something about the porn on the screen caught my attention. It wasn't just a typical scene with one or two participants. There were looked to be at least six or seven people, perhaps more, visible as the shot panned across all of the action taking place. Intrigued by it, I looked closer and realized: my grandson was jerking off to an orgy video. To top it off, many of the male and female bodies on the TV screen were clad in leather or had other S&M gear on their bodies or in their hands.

    The video cycled quickly through several different shots of people in the group, though I wondered if it might be Dennis speeding up the images himself. I caught glimpses of a woman being roughly spit roasted by two hung muscular guys. Then, two women in tall leather boots making several men crouch down to get whipped. Next, a woman and a man looking desperate and hungry as they took turns sucking a truly giant cock, the size of which you can only expect to see in professional porn.

    I noticed my grandson's hand going faster now, sliding up and down his horny teenage cock. Then suddenly, the giant dick on the TV screen started spraying jizz all over the faces of the guy and girl who had their tongues all over it moments before. Now they just had their heads back and their eyes closed, letting volley after volley of semen splatter onto their faces. No doubt some also went into their mouths, confirmed by the quick licks they both gave as they continued to enjoy the bountiful explosion of seed.

    Perhaps that was the scene Dennis had been waiting for, since he began to let loose as well, his hand still furiously flying up and down his shaft as cum began to spray out into the air, landing on his lower belly. I could see that he'd tried to hike his shirt up so that he wouldn't soil it, but that did no good as my grandson's jizz got all over his shirt as well as the clean sheets I'd just put on the bed that morning.

    I watched until Dennis had milked out the last of his load, slowly. I honestly hadn't intended to keep on looking, but I'd become transfixed by the ejaculation on screen, as well as the one happening in Dennis's room. It was wild seeing that monster cock on the TV exploding, and then seeing my grandson's excitement as his own tool began to do the same. Before reaching for the button to switch off my phone's screen, I took one last glance at Dennis, who was falling backward onto his bed, looking out of breath and very pleased. It was actually the first time I'd seen him smile since he'd arrived. He reached for his underwear that lay next to him on the bed and used it to clean himself, wiping the cum off his body as well as doing a half-assed job at dabbing it off the bedsheets.

    Finally, and certainly after much more time had passed than I should have allowed, I stopped spying on my newly arrived grandson and housemate. The feeling of guilt intensified… and was replaced by pure shock when I realized my own cock was rock hard and throbbing in my pants. Instinctively, I reached down to give it a squeeze, before silently scolding myself for it and forcing myself to ignore my erection and get started on dinner instead.​​